


Scars

by Starculler



Series: Stray!Dick AU [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Catwoman Has a Sidekick | Catlad | Stray (DCU), Dick Grayson is Catlad | Stray, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Scars, Selina is Dick's mom now sorry, Stray AU, Stray!Dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:55:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24621205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starculler/pseuds/Starculler
Summary: Selina took him in when no one else cared. Not the police. Not the people at the orphanage. And certainly not the gangster who had his parents killed and later left him for dead. The Batman may have caught Zucco in the end, but Catwoman is the one who gave him a home. She's his family now and no one, not even The Batman himself, is going to make him leave.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Selina Kyle
Series: Stray!Dick AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1780132
Comments: 4
Kudos: 69





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

> I spruced up [this whumptober piece](https://starculler.tumblr.com/post/188369373546/whumptober-2019-no15-scars) from last year!  
> Notable changes include an entirely new ending, a few clarifications, and an overall more aggressive Dick (not in a bad way). I felt like my characterization for him here was too similar to (Dis)placed's version of him which doesn't make sense! While he's still pretty subdued and introspective, I also wanted him quicker to _show_ his anger than i usually write him in part because I don't really see Selina as the type to hold back (so why should a version of Dick that's raised by her be like that).
> 
> Anyway, welcome to my Stray!Dick AU where Dick is raised by Selina instead of Bruce.

Dick sat in front of the full-length mirror in his room, propped up against the wall rather than hung, and prodded at the wad of gauzy bandages on his shoulder. The cut, a parting gift from Sionis’ thugs earlier in the night, had been deep. It curved around the top of his shoulder, down to the space between his shoulder blades, and had hurt badly enough that he’d nearly cried when Selina cleaned, sutured, and bandaged it. He prodded it again, wincing when he applied too much pressure. Yet another scar to add to his ever growing collection, not that he minded it much. A life on the streets would have probably done worse to him.

“I know I’ve told you not to poke at your healing cuts, kitten,” Selina said, exasperated and fond all at once. 

He watched her stroll in from the mirror, still dressed in her Catwoman costume though the headpiece and goggles had been pulled off. He stuck his tongue out at her and had his hair tousled in return once she was close enough. One of her cats, small and black, rubbed against his arm before settling itself in his lap. She sat next to him, pressing her shoulder to his uninjured one before reaching out to scratch behind the cat’s ears. They let the silence sit between them, comfortable but edging on awkward, and listened to the cat’s purring and the pad of paws on wood from the rest of the apartment. 

“I’m sorry,” he said eventually, eyes cast to the floorboards between him and his mirror. Selina hummed, but had lived with him long enough now to know when he wasn’t quite done. “I rushed in and didn’t listen to you and…” He sighed. “And I’m sorry.”

He flicked his gaze up, watching Selina’s reflection, but apart from the slight frown on her face there was nothing to give away her thoughts. When he couldn’t stand to try and guess her mood any longer, tense as he waited for her to speak, he let his eyes roam over his own body. He was still short, not even as tall as Selina yet, and thin. A little awkward and gangly which, while not great, was at least something he shared with a lot of other 13 year olds. And he was scarred.

The most prominent was a reminder of both the worst and one of the best moments of his life. It was a thick, diagonal gash that had required stitches, starting from his navel and moving up and across until it nearly brushed his chest. Tony Zucco had given it to him when he’d gone off to play amateur avenger and failed. Badly. He probably would have bled out if Selina hadn’t found him, tossed in an alley like a piece of trash, bloody and crying and terrified out of his mind. She’d run him to a little clinic where a nice if permanently scowling woman helped him, and then she’d pulled the story from him with all the art of a seasoned con artist. Once he’d been good to move, she’d all but spirited him away to her apartment like he was one of her strays rather than a nine year old orphan.

The memory made him smile, just a little. She’d been furious, more like a spitting cat than the cunning jewel thief Catwoman was known to be. But she’d helped him. Housed and fed and cared for him while he’d been hurt, then offered him a permanent place there when he wasn’t. When he’d told her he was still going after Zucco, she’d chewed him out and then offered her help so long as he promised not to do anything reckless. As long as he waited until she deemed him ready. Then, when Zucco was caught by the Batman a year later, she kept him, scolding him all the while for daring to think she’d kick him out.  
It made him wonder, briefly, where he’d be without her.

“I really am sorry,” he repeated when the quiet had lingered too long between them. He leaned against her, letting his head rest on her shoulder. 

“I know, Dickie. And you’ll make up for it by feeding the cats and emptying the litter boxes for the next two weeks.” Dick scowled, scrunching his nose, and she laughed, wrapping one slender arm carefully around his shoulders and tugging him into a hug. 

“Maybe then you’ll think about rushing into things instead of, oh I don’t know －” she pressed a clawed finger to her lips, as if thinking it over － “taking the time to get your mentor.” 

“Yeah, I know,” he said with a huff. She ruffled his hair.

“ _Now_. Maybe this time the lesson’ll stick.” She smiled before schooling her features into something more somber and severe. “Seriously, kitten. I mean it. I won’t have you growing up under my roof looking like a mini Szaz.” Dick shuddered at the scarred man’s name. He’d met him once and had avoided him like the plague since. “They’ll think I don’t know how to train my kid. And by ‘they’ I mean Batman.”

Dick rolled his eyes and Selina cuffed him lightly, a tap to the back of his head that made him laugh. She ruffled his hair again before standing, the action so elegant and smooth that it made him a little jealous. He pulled the cat still on his lap into his arms and pushed himself to his feet, trying to mimic some of the way she just seemed to roll up on her legs rather than using her arms to carry her weight. He ended up on his feet with only a slight wobble and his lips pursed. She flashed him a thumbs up regardless. 

“Alright kiddo, comfy clothes time. Get changed and then come grab some dinner before bed. I got takeout from the good place down the street.” 

She laughed when Dick _whooped_ , turning on his heel when the door clicked closed behind her. He set the cat down on his bed, sheets as rumpled as he’d left them that morning, before wandering over to his dresser. He pulled out a pair of loose, black sweatpants and a bright, blue tank top he’d pilfered from a higher end chain store the week before during a refresher lesson on bypassing security systems. Or so Selina told him. They both knew the real reason was because she’d spotted a cat’s eye necklace that she’d been unable to resist getting her claws on. 

_“It’s cat-themed,”_ she’d said, grinning ear to ear. _“It’s important to reinforce our brand. Plus, a little low risk robbery now and again will keep the Bat on his toes.”_  
He slowly peeled off the remainder of Stray’s costume before putting on his picked out clothes and padding back out of his room. The black cat followed behind him, bell tinkling with every step. He walked into the apartment’s main space, half tiny kitchen and half living room, and faltered midstep. His eyes widened, gaze darting frantically between Selina dressed in her baggy boxer shorts and a plush, cotton hoodie and _the Batman_ himself looking every bit the terror of Gotham’s underground.  
It was like a nightmare. Slow. Unreal. Distant. He watched as Batman’s head swung around to face him, scowling. His eyes, two white lenses that unsettled Dick more than anything, seemed to glow in the apartment’s dim lighting. Dick jumped in place, startled when Batman moved to approach him, as if he’d forgotten he was part of the scene. Selina, thankfully, killed that idea as soon as it made itself known, inserting herself directly in his path with her hands set firmly on her hips. Dick could imagine the snarl on her lips. 

“While I usually enjoy our night-time rendezvous, I don’t remember inviting you back to my place, Bats.” Her voice was light, almost pleasant as she spoke, but Dick could hear the edge to it. A sharpened knife ready to cut.

“And I told you,” Batman growled, “that I wouldn’t sit by while you put a child in danger, Selina.”

“I am _not_ putting him in danger,” she hissed. 

“No?” Batman gestured at him over Selina’s shoulder. “Look at him, Selina. His _arms_.” She opened her mouth to argue, but Batman pressed on. “Do you know any other kid as badly scarred as him? Any other kid who goes out the way you take him on your escapades?” 

Dick tensed, mouth suddenly dry. His pulse pounded in his ears, the rushing roar in his head almost deafening him. The Batman was here for _him_. He opened his mouth but no sound came out. _I do_ , he wanted to say because it was true. Because there were kids on the streets that looked worse than him. Because he would have _been_ one of those kids if it weren’t for Selina. An old, horribly familiar pressure clogged his throat making it hard to so much as swallow, let alone speak. He was stuck, rooted the floor, helpless and mute. 

“And where would he be if not here, then?” She shoved at Batman’s chest, stance wide. Ready to fight. “On the streets? In the system?”

“Supervised,” Batman said, voice level.

 _Dead_ , Dick failed to interject. The scar Zucco left him twinged, a brief pang of pain on his abdomen.

“He _is_ supervised!” She ground out, fists tight and shaking when she dropped them from her hips. 

“He’s hurt.” Selina opened her mouth and snapped it shut, teeth clicking audibly. Batman stood a little taller. 

“It could have been worse,” Selina said, mulish. Every inch of her was taught as a wire. Uncomfortable. A stark contrast to Batman’s stoic, superior air.

Dick felt sick. Almost dizzy with it. Surely, he thought, this wasn’t happening. He _couldn’t_ be hearing this. There was no possible way he was listening to Selina and Batman argue about this. He sucked in a shuddering breath, but all it did was make him feel lightheaded. The cat at his feet weaved its body between his legs, meowing loudly at him when he didn’t immediately bend down to tend to it. 

“Black Masks men aren’t a joke, Selina.”

“I never said they were.”

Batman glowered, hard, paused, and then asked “What would you have done if they’d killed him?”

The question seemed to suck the air out of the room. Out of the apartment. Out of the world. _That’s not fair_ , he wanted to yell but his words were still stuck behind that horrible clog in his throat. He held himself still in the silence that stretched between the adults, wishing he could reach up and claw the invisible blockage out of his throat. Wishing he could force his feet forward and _shove_ the man out of his home. Anything would have been better than standing there, silent, as Selina’s shoulders pulled up closer to her jaw. Cowed in a way he’d never seen from her. She looked small, beyond just her height. As if Batman’s words had dragged her physically down through the floorboards to the concrete six floors below them.

She didn’t answer. 

Batman didn’t push again.

Deafening silence rang through their home, and Dick felt his blood boil. His heart stuttered in his chest, pounding in time with the anger simmering under his skin. This wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. _He_ was the one at fault, not Selina. He’d baited the men Sionis had hired, not her. It had been his choice to skulk around the shipyard by himself and Batman had no right inserting himself into an unnecessary argument. Batman had no right to make Selina feel _small_. 

The words were there, caustic acid in his throat, but he couldn’t force them out. He felt all of nine years old again, going where he was lead because he couldn’t make himself speak no matter how much he tried. Just a kid with a mouthful of anger and grief, but a tongue twisted so badly that not a whisper of it escaped. Shock, they’d said. Stubborn. Stupid, he’d heard whispered once or twice as if they thought the poor little circus boy hadn’t learned to speak at all. But if he had been those things once, he was more now. He wasn’t some sniveling kid from the circus who’d lost his parents too young. He was Dick Grayson, last of the Flying Graysons, son of John and Mary Grayson, Catwoman’s partner and protege, and he’d grown up knowing that actions spoke volumes louder than his words. 

His body seemed to move on its own, catapulted into sudden motion. He barely heard Selina call his name as he stepped around her, every inch of him focused on the Batman’s costume-clad, bulky frame. Two steps from Gotham’s notorious vigilante, Dick put his hands up, palms open, and shoved with every ounce of weight he could push into the motion. The Bat took one step back, and in that moment Dick felt he could have been all of ten feet or two inches tall, and never mind the aching pull in his shoulder from the action. He was shaking under the man’s glowering gaze, whether from adrenaline, anger, or fear he couldn’t tell and found he didn’t much care. Dick glared back, pouring every ounce of malicious bravado available to him, and then some. 

The air was thick. Suffocating. Dick wanted to retreat to his room with the cats who’d fled at the first signs of confrontation. He wanted to shove Batman again, hard enough to knock him out the window he’d crawled through. He didn’t move. Not one inch.  
“You heard the kid, Bats,” Selina chimed in after a few seconds, voice even and sharp. When the man didn’t move, she snapped “Leave” as she pulled Dick back by his arm to put herself between them again. 

For one horrifying moment, Dick thought that Batman would retaliate. Would hurt Selina and take him away, back to the orphanage or some crummy foster home or even jail. The thought stole his breath and left him almost gasping until, finally, the man stepped back with only a quiet, grim nod. Dick sucked air in through his mouth like a drowned man breaching the surface, fast and hard and painful in his chest. Selina spun on him the minute she was sure Batman was good and gone, eyes flashing and mouth open with a well deserved verbal lashing on the tip of her tongue that died as soon as she laid her eyes on him. 

“Are you okay?” She asked, looking him over briefly before taking one of his hands in hers and squeezing it, tight but reassuring. 

Dick struggled, but ultimately nodded, the motion dizzyingly fast and jerky, when words continued to fail him. Selina sighed and squeezed his hand again, twice. It was a silent question, a nonverbal code between them because, believe it or not, neither of them were wholly comfortable asking for things like comfort and help out loud. _Touch: yes or no._ He nodded again, pulling his arm back to bring her in closer. He wanted a hug. Needed one right now to help ground him because he’d just helped kick _The Batman_ out their apartment. In fact, he’d _shoved_ Batman. The very notion of what he’d done made him want to laugh. Or throw up. Or faint. 

He startled a little when Selina’s arms wrapped loosely around him, pulling him back out of his head. As soon as she had him though, he all but melted into the embrace, pulling his own trembling arms up to clutch at the back of her hoodie while he buried his face in her shoulder. He felt her press her nose into his hair and rub gently at his back, careful not to reach high enough to touch his bandaged cut, the way she used to when he was smaller, chased to her room by nightmares of his parents falling. 

“That was so incredibly stupid of you,” she whispered without pulling away, the words thick with something he didn’t quite have the energy to place. Fear? Concern? “So, so stupid.” 

He made a noise, muffled by her shoulder, that wasn’t quite agreement. 

“You’re grounded if you ever give me a heart attack like that again. Do you understand me?”

Dick nodded, feeling drained as the adrenaline bled slowly out of him. 

“Good.”

“M’sorry,” he mumbled, the words garbled and a little slurred as the pressure in his throat finally abated enough to let him speak. Selina hummed as he pushed his face a little more firmly into her shoulder. “Don’ wanna leave.”  
The words felt raw and uncomfortable. Too big and not enough, but they were all he could manage until he wasn’t so stuck. Selina, thankfully, seemed to understand. She always did. Or tried to at least. She pulled back despite the weak protest that pulled itself from between his teeth, just far enough to look him in the eyes. Her hands moved up, ghosting over his arms, palms over his neck until they came up to cup his cheeks. When she spoke there was an air about her, fierce and crackling and terrifying as the dark, serious glint in her eyes. In that moment, she looked like not even Superman himself could defeat her. 

“No one.” Dick shivered, ice crawling up the length of his spine. Her thumb brushed the curve of his eye and she grinned, dangerous and cat-like. “No one will ever make you leave unless you want to.” He opened his mouth to argue but she shook her head. “No one,” she repeated, firm. “I won’t let them. Ivy and Harley won’t. And you won’t. Hell,” she laughed, the sound edging on hysterical, “you just pushed Batman. _The_ Batman. If you can stand up to that brute, then kid, I can almost guarantee you won’t be letting anyone in this city push you around. Especially not when I’m through training you up good and ready.

“Gotham’s our oyster, Kitten. And it’s ripe for the picking.”

Dick rolled his eyes, but smiled. 

“Tha’s not very cat-themed o’ you.” 

“Shut it, cotton-mouth.” 

She swatted at him, a light cuff on the side of his head that made him laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me about this or any au on [tumblr](https://starculler.tumblr.com/) lol


End file.
